


This Thing They Have

by Still_Not_King



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, Bucky does too but it's like 18th on his list of problems, Everyone is happy and living in the Avengers treehouse and working together okay, Gen, Getting Together, Impending Stucky?, Implied Relationships, M/M, No Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Not-Quite-But-Quite-Obvious-To-Everyone-Else Stucky, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Tony Stark Has A Heart, accurate up to civil war, i guess?, pre-stucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 22:57:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16355867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Still_Not_King/pseuds/Still_Not_King
Summary: Tony still didn't get it.Most of the Avengers didn't, honestly.  The fact was indisputable: Steve Rodgers and James "Bucky" Barnes - Captain Freaking America and Hydra's Winter Freaking Soldier - would always be more important to one another than anyone or anything else. (Except maybe a world-ending, apocolypse-like event. And even then, they'd probably jump into the event horizon together, the weirdos.) The other members of the team maybe didn't understand, but nobody could argue the duo were incredibly effective, got their jobs done, and generally made one another better on the battlefield, so nobody cared either.Then Brooklyn happened.





	This Thing They Have

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Panic/Asthma Attack
> 
> And old as hell one-shot I found, edited, and am just now posting. :-) Enjoy!

Tony still didn't get it.

 

Most of the Avengers didn't, honestly. Natasha and Clint were probably most understanding of their relationship, but even they didn't try to wrap their heads around the depth of feeling between the two soldiers-out-of-time. The fact was indisputable: Steve Rodgers and James "Bucky" Barnes - Captain Freaking America and The Winter Freaking Soldier - would always be more important to one another than anyone or anything else. (Except maybe a world-ending, apocolypse-like event. And even then, they'd probably jump into the event horizon together, the weirdos.)

The other members of the team didn't understand, but it was a non-issue once Barnes had been officially cleared, so it was basically accepted and everyone moved on. See, because nobody else in the world but Bucky remembered Steve as a skinny, scared, sick kid hoping that his lungs didn't give out before he got his first kiss. And only Steve would cuff The Winter Soldier on the back of the head or flick peanuts at Hydra's most beloved asset without an iota of fear or hesitation. On top of sharing the singular experience of being men physically in their (serum-enhanced) thirties with minds in their nineties, none of the other Avengers could really fathom what it was like to even _have_ a friend from childhood. (Bruce was the closest, but he hadn't talked to Harvey Robertson since they went separate ways for their third PH'D's. Clint still had beers with Tony - different Tony - and Will every couple months, but they both somehow, inexplicably, thought he was in solar panel sales. So it wasn't quite the same). Because there was truly no reference point, everyone just kind of accepted their odd closeness and went on with their life without a second thought. Most of the time (less so when Sam was around) the two men acted more like teenagers at the fair and decidedly less like they were both part of Earth's first team of Superheroes. But nobody could argue the duo were incredibly effective, got their jobs done, and generally made one another better on the battlefield so nobody cared.

Except Tony, of course. He needled the two supersoldiers tirelessly about their closeness, their inside jokes, and their shared physical space. Natasha sometimes attempted to cut him off, but the two men usually waved him off or chuckled and shared a look before continuing on with whatever they had been doing. Their ability to keep one another from rising to even the most crass and insensitive insinuations Tony made about their relationship only served to irritate the Iron Man more, and had more than once led to Bruce or Natasha forcibly hauling a belligerent Stark from the room with something just homophobic or inappropriate enough to cross a line hovering on his lips. (He was always grateful for the intervention, though he'd never admit it. His inability to puzzle out the hows and whys of the two men's interactions infuriated his instinct to understand beyond anything he had anticipated.) Nat waved it off as Tony's inability to process a close friendship between two men. Bruce tried to explain the cultural expectations and psychological dependences the two must have experienced growing up the way they did in during the Depression. Clint pulled him aside one day to make sure he knew just how many different ways he could remove unimportant phalanges if he heard one more shitty insinuation disparaging the two of them if they were involved romantically. Thor just laughed uproariously and thought Tony was being intentionally thick, which didn't help matters at all. And Wanda simply scowled at him when he got out of line, which was honestly the thing that unnerved him the most.

 

Then Brooklyn happened.

 

It should have been easy. The Avengers team had been staking out this little cell of something-between-Hydra-and-Shield for about 5 weeks. It was based out of a crappy little building in a part of Brooklyn that hadn't quite been reached by Starbucks and craft breweries. There was a dilapidated old community center with an abandoned old pool behind it on one side and a questionable-looking bodega on the other. Captain Rodgers, still de facto team leader, had required they clear the area first. Everyone had gone about this task efficiently, Bucky providing the soundtrack with a profanity-laden tirade about giving away the element of surprise the entire time. (It wasn't terribly vitriolic, just crabby, and obviously aimed at Steve as the entire thing was in English. His usual multi-lingual ramblings would generally prompt Tony to grouse at him to turn off his comm if he was just gonna talk to himself, but these kind of belligerent, teasing commentaries on their fearless leader tended to amuse everyone on the team.) With all civilians clear, final instructions were given and the infiltration of the compound went as planned. Vision and Wanda made a hell of a team running cover from both ground and air, Barton and Barnes pearched roofside while Natasha, Tony, Sam, and Rodgers all went in through the front door. It would have been perfect...

if Hydra hadn't blown a hole in the backside of the building as the team entered from the front.

 

"I fucking told you!" was the first thing everyone heard over the comms as the explosion rocked the ground below them.

"Yeah, yeah, I owe you a nickel," was Captain Rodgers' marginally exasperated reply and then he was directing his team through their earpieces. "Buck, Barton, take point. Nat, cover me, we're going through! Sam! Stark! Break some windows and do a sweep of the upper levels, make sure we're not missing anything major. Wanda, Vision, you hold position. Keep this contained."

It was organized bedlam from there on out. Really, the whole team was only there as a precautionary measure. (One could never be sure when a new or interesting WMD would show up with these splinter cells nowadays.) The last three Hydra operatives to avoid custody managed to make a break for the old community center, which ended quickly with Steve dive-tackling the final soldier into the empty pool. A pop and a hiss and the sounds of a tussle echoed over the comms.

Black Widow was in everyone's ear immediately, voice unfairly steady for the pace she was running. "Eyes on! Eyes on! I've lost visual on Cap. On my way to last known position. Falcon?"

"Positive visual, Widow. Cap has our guy on the ropes. Looks like he popped a gas grenade but they're both still kickin'- Hah. I'll get him out of your hair, Cap..." Sam Wilson swooped down and grabbed a partially-conscious man in tactical gear, hauling him easily out of the empty pool by his vest and into the air. "Picked up our last target. bringing him out front to the rest. Cap's on his way. Everyone rendezvous at the paddywagon?"

A chorus of "Positive!" "Already Here!" and a single "Yup!" cluttered up the airwaves before a beat of silence was followed by an insistent:

"Captain, confirm."

Bucky's voice after a mission was always the same atonal demand for obedience no matter who he was talking to.

Tony chimed in, teasing, from his position above the roof near the front of the building. "What's the matter, old man? Can't figure out a radio? I thought we went over this!” He noted Bucky slinking with purpose away from the Iron Man towards the back of the rooftop, angling to see behind the building next door. “Aww, look, your boy's gotta come check on you. Come On, Barnes! Rendezvous’ this way! I’ll make you take the stairs!"

There was another beat of silence and both Barton and Stark noticed how the soldier's fluid movements froze once he was given a clear view into the abandoned community center's yard.

Then: "...Steve?"

Tony didn't have time to register just how small Barnes' voice had sounded before the Winter Soldier took two running strides, hopped onto the lip of the rooftop, then dissapeared from view. Clint's voice chimed in everyone's ear.

"Uh, Barnes just jumped. Repeat, Barnes just jumped off the roof." The sound of Barton running followed, then: "... uh... update. Nat! Tony, Sam, turn around and get to the pool. Rogers is down. Repeat, Cap's in need of assistance. Unsure status, appears conscious, I've got eyes on both Rogers and Barnes."

 

     Steve was on his hands and knees at the bottom of the pool, body stiff and racked with coughs he couldn't control. Bucky dropped a few stories at a time, hopping from fire escape to window ledge to railing, relying a bit more on adreneline, his new arm, and faith than he probably should have. But a hazy yellow mist had surrounded his friend and Barnes was viscerally reminded of the last time he'd seen chlorine gas. His and Steve's positions had been nearly exactly switched - Bucky stuck in the bottom of a foxhole with the heavier-than-air gas settling in his mouth, his nose, his eyes... Then Steve had come, bandanna wrapped around his stupid face, and stuck his own mask over Bucky’s nose and mouth before hauling him over the edge of the ditch and out of the miasma. In the present, Steve had torn off his helmet - likely an attempt to clear his vision, the cold, calculating soldier in Bucky’s brain supplied - and it lay discarded at the bottom of what would be the deep end of the empty concrete basin. He had made his way to what would have been the shallow end before the gas overwhelmed even his supersoldier faculties. ("No helmet, no comm, no way to call backup, dammit Steve," Bucky distractedly observed as he jumped.) The Captain was paused, chest spasming, and was pounding the ground with a frustrated fist. Bucky, landing already in a full sprint, ripped off the mask he had begun wearing again when he started his missions with the Avengers. It had his radio in it, so everyone got a jarring feedback sound with a muffled "shit" before the Winter Soldier took a deep breath and landed in the pool, skidding to a stop on his knees like he was sliding into first base. He stuck the mask over Cap's face and hauled him onto their respective feet. Racking, gasping, wet coughs echoed in everyone's ears as Barnes pulled Rodgers into a fireman's carry, hauled him bodily out of the pool, and deposited him gracelessly on a step a dozen yards from the empty hole. Steve clawed the mask off his face and it fell against his chest unnoticed. Bucky was on his knees in front of their fearless leader, heedless of the hacking, watery rasps coming from Captain America. A voice - not the atonal, brusque Winter Soldier, nor the jovial, sarcastic Bucky they saw on particularly good days, but nonetheless and unmistakably Barnes - rasped over their comms.

"C'mon Stevie, c'mon. Breathe, doll, slow. Calm down, it's okay."

(Tony wouldn't have believed Barnes had it in him to be so soothing, if he hadn't rounded the corner of the building and seen it himself).

Steve shook his head violently, shoulders hunched and chest working to no avail. The sounds he was making were painful; hiccups and clicking glottal noises, with strangled, aborted inhales. He found his voice, but words were strings of consonants, like he was speaking on the inhale. "Can't-. Can't-. Br'th-. Can't-."  Another bout of awful, wet coughing and Bucky was touching Steve, alternately rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades and hitting his back with a stiff, cupped hand until the coughing bout eased a little, wiping tears from where his eyes wouldn't stop watering, a quick swipe under Steve's nose with the sleeve of his flak jacket, and making these soothing sounds like you'd make to comfort a frightened child. "Shh, Shh, it's ok. Chlorine, like in France, but it's okay. New lungs, remember?" Steve looked like he was attempting to shake his head again. "New lungs. New you. Like a shiny new penny. Come on, dollbaby, slow. Breathe for me Stevie. Shh, shh. Even supersoldiers gotta breathe. Come on. Slow, Stevie, you'll be aces in a minute. Shhh, please, please. Come on." It was like a radio play the team could hear unfolding over their comms, and it held everyone in horrified, frozen silence. All team members but Vision (who had thankfully remembered someone had to keep track of the unconscious Hydra members handcuffed in the back of their armoured truck) had run full tilt to the abandoned lot, only to stand frozen with helplessness several yards from the two men.Steve was still making these horrible, choked, panicked noises and the rest of the team stood transfixed. "Can't-. Can't-. Slow-" A half-gasp, painful, like trying to take a deep breath through a straw, then: "...ohgod. Buck? I. I'm. Please?” He pawed strangely at Bucky's chest, then clenched his eyes and fists in a desperate attempt to control himself. Sam Wilson, realization washing over him like ice water, recognized the ramp up to a full-blown panic attack unfolding in front of them all.

   Steve's plea for help had spurred some frantic movement from Bucky. He quickly undid the top half of the buttons on his jacket and grasped Steve's right hand in his left, metal pressing flesh fingers into the skin of his chest above his heart. He leaned forward and grabbed the side of Steve's head, forcing their foreheads together from brow bone to the tip of their noses. "Hey, hey, shh. Doc says panicking just makes it worse, right? Come on, pipsqueak, it's ok. We can do this, just us. Just like last year, and the year before. It's ok, Stevie. I'm here. Feel my heart?" Steve nodded against Bucky and you could hear the tinge of desperation in the Winter Soldier’s voice when he spoke again. "That's all you, right? Remember? That’s yours. You got heart for both of us and I got enough hot air to keep us goin' till spring, but only if you breathe, doll. Calm down, match me, breathe with me, come on.” Steve's other hand groped blindly and landed on the lower half of Bucky's face, fingers loosely resting over the Winter Soldier's lips, fingertips beneath his nose. “In and out, just like this, you’ll be alright. Shhh, shhh. We’ll have money for the doc on Friday, but you’ll be aces by then, you’ll see. If you breathe, Stevie. Slow, with me, just try. It's berries, see? Easy." The pause allowed everyone to hear an exaggerated inhale/exhale from Barnes and a few spasmodic, croupy attempts followed by a wet cough from Steve. Bucky leaned sideways, though not far enough to dislodge either of the blonde man's hands from his face or chest, and hit Steve's back hard until he was done coughing. "Good, good, doll, get it out. That's it, get it out," everyone heard distantly. Barnes' mask with his radio fell unnoticed from around Steve's neck to his knees as Bucky resumed his position against Steve's forehead, and the litany of comforting sounds and steady encouragement faded out of range as the Captain found his breath. An unexpected sniffle sounded over the comms, and a few people noticed Wanda staring with tears, silent but unashamed, streaming down her face. Sam shook himself into action and made a move towards the two men.

"Wait," Wanda called out, wiping her cheeks. Sam pulled up short.

"Why? What's wrong?"

The Scarlet Witch looked back to the duo with a complicated, concentrating expression. "I don’t think… They don't know where they are. When. When they are. They’re both so frightened. Steve is… It's like he’s trapped in his body. He’s… too heavy? And Barnes is trying so hard to stay calm but he’s so… There are so many memories. Fears. They’re all jumbled together. They're so far away, how can I... It's so strong, it’s... it's just so much," she warbled, then stifled a sob with her fist.

Black Widow appeared from nowhere, a comforting arm around Wanda's shoulders. "Okay, come on, kid. We're gonna go see Vision out front. Let's take your earpiece out."

A muffled, "Okay," followed by Natasha again on the line.

"I'll be on comms for both of us," came the spy's even tone. "Stark, Wilson: Gather up the popsicles when they're back in the twenty-first century, will you? Make sure Steve goes straight to Bruce, sounds like he got a face full of _something_ nasty. Everyone else, rendezvous back at base. Move out, we need to clear the area before the press get wind of this."

The Avengers broke like a wave, spell broken, and everyone went their separate ways. In less than a minute, it was just Falcon, Iron Man, and two boys from Brooklyn huddling on the community center steps.

  


     Bucky was still breathing steadily against Steve's loose fingers, chest rising and falling in exaggerated inhales and exhales beneath their clasped hands. The blonde man's own breathing was becoming more even, if not still a bit shaky and watery. The Winter Soldier kept up a soft running commentary. "There ya go, doll. What'd I say, shiny and new, that's you. I don't got anywhere to be except right here. You take your time. In... Out... good, dollbaby, good. Slow, baby. Good." Finally, Steve huffed and some of the tension leaked out of his posture. He dropped his fingers from Bucky's face and rasped out, "Don't call me... baby."

Bucky grinned, big and genuine. "I'll call you whatever I like, s'long as you don't got the breath to say I can't."

Steve tried to laugh, which just started another coughing fit, but it wasn't as bad as the last. Bucky let Steve cough, then leaned back closer and moved his hand from the blonde hair at the nape of his neck to cup his cheek. "Don't hear you complaining about the doll bit anymore," he teased.

Steve closed his eyes, still focusing on keeping his panic tamped down, and gave a lopsided, rueful smile. "Yeah, well, I'm pretty enough now, but I'll never be a baby," he replied archly, squinting. Bucky patted Steve's cheek.

"You was always pretty, ya punk. S'why you always strike out, girls gettin' jealous of those technicolor blues and all." He sat back for a beat, letting his hand settle on his own knee, then asked in a more serious tone: "You ready?"

Steve took a moment to self-assess, then nodded definitely. "Yeah."

"Okay." Bucky stood up, still holding the hand he'd pressed so closely to his chest, then hauled Steve upright and slung the blonde man's arm over his shoulder. Steve leaned heavily against his friend and Bucky's metal arm snaked around his waist, before they turned in tandem and finally noticed their surroundings.

 

  Sam crossed the few yards’ distance quickly once it became obvious the two men were angling to get up. Steve blinked owlishly, coming back to the present slowly, but smiled brightly when he spotted his friend. "Sam!" He greeted brightly, still wheezing a bit. Bucky nodded amicably at Wilson and hiked Cap up a little higher as the blonde dropped his head and focused on a slow inhale.

"Need a hand?" Sam asked lamely, not really sure how to get the two soldiers from where they were back to Avengers Tower without a public relations incident.

Bucky hugged Steve closer to himself reflexively, noticed Sam notice, and quickly reassessed their situation. Both he and Steve were trembling slightly, him from the adrenaline come-down (hadn't felt like _this_ in a while) and Steve from adrenaline and exhaustion. He was always like this after an asthma attack. As much as he wanted to tuck his friend against his side and stumble the thirteen blocks to their apartment, he realized he’d at least have to grab a cab and they didn’t have the money…

No.

Not their apartment.

21ist century, not ‘37.

They needed to get to the… to Stark Tower.

He was an Avenger.

Sam Wilson - Steve’s other best friend - standing there.

Sam wanted to help.

His head was a mess.

Bucky shook his head almost angrily and refocused, giving a terse, affirmative grunt and opening up his grip on Steve's waist to allow Wilson to duck under and support the Captain’s other arm. “Thanks,” they both mumbled, Steve with a self-deprecating smile while Barnes’ tone had reverted back to its usual post-combat tonelessness.

  Tony rocket-booted over and landed as the trio made their way around the the side of the busted up apartment complex and around the rubble of their skermish. He landed with a clunk and opened his mask. “Okay, crew! Happy and the car’ll be here in five to whisk you all away as quickly and discreetly as possible. Cleanup is on its way, but that also means Channel Four and I highly doubt anyone wants an unscheduled interview today. I’m going to inconspicuously abscond in the direction of that helicopter and land in an easily photographable space, so if you’ll excuse me...” He looked significantly at Cap, who nodded gratefully.

“Thanks, Tony. I owe ya.”

Stark waved him off. “Bah.  I know… getting, uh… gassed. Takes a lot out of a guy. Flashing lights and loud idiots with microphones probably wouldn’t help you, y’know. Catch your breath or... whatever. Besides!” He flipped his faceplate down and fired up his blasters. “It’s been at least a week since I ended up in the papers. Probably won’t even make front page above the fold for this. See ya at home!” He threw a lazy salute to the three soldiers and aimed himself at the News at 5 chopper they could vaguely see in the distance just as a familiar black town car pulled up to the curb. Happy Hogan hopped out and hustled around to open the doors as Sam and Bucky hurried the much-recovered-but-still-unsteady Captain America into the back seat.

“Damn, Happy, are we glad to see you,” Sam declared, shutting the door behind Steve and climbing into the front passenger seat.

“Glad I was available,” the unflappable bodyguard answered evenly, and they all set out towards Avengers Tower.

 

  The ride back to Avengers Tower was quiet and uneventful. Steve spent the majority of the ride with his head resting straight back and his eyes closed. He would have looked asleep if his breaths hadn’t been measured as a drumbeat the entire drive. Barnes passed the time staring blankly out the window, with furtive glances at the others in the car approximately once every ninety seconds. Sam hummed old jazz songs and chatted with Happy about the Knicks.

  


  It was a breakfast debrief the next morning before everyone was together again. And of course, it was Clint who brought up the pool incident in the most Barton-esque way possible. “You know,” he had turned on Bucky and gestured accusingly with a bagel. “Give a guy some warning before you just _jump_ off a thirty-fourth floor awning, would ya? I thought I was gonna have to explain to Cap here how I let his best bud break both his super-soldier femurs.”

Steve leveled an even look at Barnes, who used his still-long hair to subtly hide from the man next to him. “I’m sorry, Clint, he what?” Rogers asked, not looking at Clint in the slightest.

“Jumped off the damn roof. You two really are a pair. What, was gravity not as much of a thing in the forties?” He stuffed a bite of his bagel into his mouth and started chewing. “‘Course, you’re the asshole who lost his comm AND his six, so…” He looked significantly at Nat. “Y’know. Good thing he was actually payin’ attention.”

“If I may: What actually happened yesterday afternoon?” Inquired the Vision. “I regret all I could piece together through the radio feed was that Captain Rogers was exposed to a chemical agent of some kind. And, of course, that Sergeant Barnes-”

“Yeah, Vision, I know. I sure did lose my cool somethin’ fierce, didn’t I?” Bucky interrupted, somewhat too loudly.

The quiet around the table was deafening for a moment.

Sam wasn’t as quick on the uptake as hoped. “Barnes, your radio was in your mask. We could hear-”

“Everything till you ripped it off. You know what kinda feedback that causes, Barnes?” Tony finished, shutting down Sam with an eyebrow. He turned and flicked a cheerio at Bucky. “You guys sat there for a _minute_ , didn’t you? What was poor Cap doing? Did he have to talk you down or sit through a lecture? You two weren’t just sitting there talking about how the music nowadays is crap, were you? Because I have it on good authority that _both_ of you have been listening to Rihanna when you don’t think anyone’s home.” He turned to Bruce, sitting quietly at the other end of the table. “Hey, you did the post-op physio, what was that stuff? And can we all start wearing masks like Predator over here? Because it sounds nasty if it can bring both our super-boys to their knees.”

Bruce looked up from where he’d been meticulously eating half a grapefruit, clearly lost. “Uhhh,” he answered articulately.

Bucky cut in. “Chlorine gas. At least, that’s what it looked like… felt like.” He glanced at Steve, then down at his plate. “Like in the War. The Germans would drop it in the trenches and everyone’d scramble for their masks. It gets into your lungs, your eyes, your nose. Makes you cough, everything’s blurry and your lungs fill with fluid. It’s… yeah,” he smirked with a self-conscious shrug and looked around the table. “Good thing ol’ Captain America was there to get my head back on straight, right Steve?” He nudged the blonde next to him, throwing an arm around the back of his chair with an open smile. Steve blinked several times, shook his head minutely, and gave Bucky a strange, calculating look.

“Yeah, Buck. Whatever you say,” he conceded slowly, with a small smile. “Jerk.”

Breakfast continued without incident.

  
  


Tony caught up with Bucky in the hallway after dinner, conspicuously hiding something behind his back. “Hey! Barnes! Wait up!”

Bucky would admit, he tensed up as he stopped to turn and face the younger Stark. He was expecting sass, or to be mocked mercilessly, or a threat to use Steve’s breakdown against them both at some point in the future. Hell, he was half expecting a punch! (Not for any specific reason, just that he generally expected to be accosted when approached alone). He was _not_ expecting Tony to hand him his own combat mask, preening slightly.

“I fixed your mask for you.”  
Bucky stared silently, a little baffled, and took the proffered item. He turned it over in his hands, inspecting it. “Th-Thanks? It wasn’t…” He spotted two small buttons added to the right side near his ear and squinted suspiciously.

Tony cut in. “Broken? Well, no, not specifically. You and Rogers get goin’ tho, don’t you. So I gave you a private line. Press that top button there, and you can talk to him privately. If you have any stupid old-timey jokes or you need to, y’know, check up on him or something. Stuff he maybe wouldn’t tell us.” Bucky raised his eyebrows skeptically. Tony rolled his eyes dismissively. “Okay, okay. You know I know you know I hate being out of the loop. But, well…” He puffed his cheeks out and blew out a breath, looking anywhere but the metal-armed soldier in front of him and rocking on his heels. “I know a thing or two about panic attacks, okay? That’s what they’re called now, by the way. That thing that you talked him through? Panic attack. Anxiety attack on steriods, essentially. Not sure if those were an actual thing back in the old days or if you were just supposed to grin and bear it. But yesterday? I get it. And I get that it’s pretty fuckin’ personal. So… yeah. If you need to check in with each other. That’s that button.”

Bucky gaped, a little off-kilter at the unexpected thoughtfulness of the addition. He noticed a slight addition to the other side and pursed his lips. “And what’s this one?”

“That can be our little secret, if you want. Or you can tell Cap, whatever… that releases a super-soldier dose of albuterol into the mask. It’s a bronchodilator. And… the tiniest super-soldier dose of an SSRI I designed, don’t tell anyone. Well, besides the Cap, if you want.” Tony looked at Bucky’s blank, sightly confused expression and sighed, gesturing broadly. “Steve’s brain thinks he’s having an asthma attack, his body has muscle memory, the panic attack gets worse, it’s a positive feedback loop. I get it, for me it was thinking I was having a heart attack. Anyway, he gets a dose of this and at least he doesn’t have to worry about his lungs _actually_ shutting down. It should help get everything else under control if it happens again. And I can show you how to refill it from my stash in the lab so you’re not runnin’ after me any time he needs it.”

Bucky nodded, then froze, implications hitting him one after another. “You’ve had these, these panic attacks? They’re- wait. How… Ehem. How much, exactly, did you all hear yesterday?” He asked cautiously. His heart rate spiked and he wasn’t sure if he was more embarrassed for himself or… no, he was definitely only embarrassed for himself.

Tony’s smile was a little sinister. “Not much, dollbaby. Nothing at all, in fact.” He patted Bucky on the non-metal shoulder and began walking back to his labs. “Come find me when you want a primer on changing the cartridge,” he called over his shoulder.

Bucky stood blushing in the middle of the hall, trying to process the idea that they’d all heard… well… it’s just he’d only ever been that way with Steve. It wasn’t really a part of himself he broadcast. But if they’d all sort of agreed to pretend it hadn’t happened…

But Tony still modified his mask…

His mask.

“Tony!” He broke out of his own head and called after Stark’s retreating form, jogging to catch up. They paused again, alone in the hall. Bucky took a deep breath, making a point of eye contact. “Thank you,” he declared sincerely. He chewed his lip and opened his mouth like he wanted to say more, but elaborating didn’t seem appropriate or even possible. So he just said it again. “Thank you, Tony.”

Stark, for his part, looked abruptly and uncomfortably misty. “Eh, anything to keep you two up and running and outta my hair,” he waved dismissively. “Now go and make sure your boy’s not getting up to anything dangerous, would ya? I’ve got some diagnostics to run on F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s security protocols and a date with Pepper on Saturday afternoon. Keep him amused at least through the weekend, huh?” He bustled down the hall and Bucky turned over the modified mask in his hands, a small smile on his face.

  
  


  So Tony still didn’t _get_ it. But he understood a little more, and that was enough. Nobody ever outright mentioned overhearing the way Steve and Bucky had handled things that afternoon, but things changed in subtle ways after that day. Tony stopped his constant needling, Sam managed to successfully get Steve to a counseling group at the VA. (The people in group knew him as Pete, but whatever, he was going.) Everyone was just a little more relaxed in the Tower, and the ice around the Winter Soldier’s everyday persona started to thaw. One day, a few weeks into the new, improved status quo, Tony pulled Steve aside and showed him a room he had never been in before. It had movie-style seating and an enormous screen at the front. He hauled around the silent soldier, showing him how to work the controls and how to pull up nearly any film he wanted before finally turning and facing him toe to toe at the end of the tour.

“Listen, Rogers. I don’t get it. Well… what am I saying, I understand everything. But I’m not sure I get you and Barnes. What I _do_ get is that you’re the goddamn Wizard and he’s the frickin’ Tin Man so please, for the love of god, ask him to dinner and a movie before Natasha tries to set you up again, would you? Because watching you try to talk her out of it is just awkward for everyone.”

Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Tony waved a dismissive hand in his face. “Nuh-uh-uh-uh, no. Do some Googling, jeezus, you two have more hang-ups than my suits. You’ve got heart enough for the both of you? I mean… hate to be the one to break it to ya, Cap, but that boy’s got it bad. Has for a while. And no adult in the history of the world has ever seriously called another adult dollbaby and not wanted to get all up _in_ that.”

Tony had been convinced Captain America was incapable of looking vulnerable. He was 100% mistaken. Steve scuffed his toe against the carpet. “You heard that, huh?” The Iron Man rolled his eyes.  
“Jesus, man, the whole team heard it. If anyone cared, you wouldn’t have heard the end of it from then to now.”

Steve shook his head in confusion. “Then why’d Buck-”

“Because he didn’t want you to know we knew, you walnut,” Tony interrupted in exasperation. “He knew you’d be all weird about having an attack in front of everyone. You’ve got that same stubborn, gotta-be-strong, don’t-need-anyone, fearless-leader-stupidity streak that I got, and it makes us physically incapable of being vulnerable in public without feeling nauseous. And Barnes knows that. Knows you. And would rather look the fool than let you be uncomfortable, the idiot.”

He stepped into Steve’s space and dropped his voice, despite their being alone in the doorway of the movie room. “Listen: I got some issues too. More than you know, probably. And Pepper’s the best thing that ever happened to me. But I got caught up in my own head like you two numbskulls and it nearly killed me. Well, specifically you and Barnes nearly killed me, but back to the point at hand. I know I - we all - heard some stuff neither you nor Thousand Yard Death Stare ever wanted or expected us to hear. See. But I gotta tell you, from everything I’ve seen… You and him?” He sighed and looked at his friend seriously. “You don’t find this twice, Steve. And we of all people know how fast things can go ass over teakettle.”

Rogers was staring at the shorter man wide-eyed when he finished, face a bit more open than Tony was comfortable with. Tony relinquished Cap’s personal space without another word and they began walking down the hallway, back towards the common areas. Just as they were about to part, Steve stopped Tony with a pinch on his sleeve. The goateed man turned expectantly. Rogers studied the wall to the left of his head before blurting out: “You know any good Italian that delivers?” He hung his head, like he could hide from his implied admission.

Tony just grinned like the cat who caught the canary. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Pull up the menus for all 4 and 5 star Italian restaurants within a five block area. Prioritize places with homemade pasta, pull them up in Steve Rogers’ room.” He turned and walked away, pointed a finger triumphantly in the air, and called out half to Cap and half to himself. “I knew I’d figure it out eventually! Thank _god_. I thought I was losing my edge. F.R.I.D.A.Y. - Call Pepper, please.”

Steve turned and hurried to his rooms, hoping that any of the places Stark had recommended made cannoli. He was pretty sure he could convince Bucky to try an old favorite.

 

 

 

 


End file.
